Ten minutes later he emerged onto the roof after climbing six flights of stairs with a telescope that he now believed to weigh two hundred pounds. It took him a couple minutes to figure out how to set up the telescope, once he had it properly mounted, he pointed it towards the bridge. It took him another minute to bring the image into focus. When he finally did, he was shocked and confused at what he saw.
A thirty- or forty-foot section had been blown out of the center of the bridge. There are four large barges lined up on the river below. From the center of the lead barge a blonde woman is suspended from the rafters and is dangling out over the gap. He couldn’t hear it from this distance, but she looks to be screaming. The undead were flowing towards her in droves. When they reached the breach, they fell over the sides and fell into large open compartments on the ships. Erik stood and watched for an hour, watched as thousands of undead fell into a huge container ship, eventually the ship pulled away and another moved to take its place. Droves of undead splashed into the water and then bounced off the ship while it positioned itself under the bridge. The first ship moved down river and eventually out of sight.
Erik decided that it had to be the army clearing the cities of infected. And decided the he had to signal them that he was alive. He pulled a mirror off the wall in the bathroom on the next floor down and broke off a large chunk. He carried it back to the roof and moved it back and forth attempting to signal the boat captain. He continued moving the mirror and looking through the telescope for several minutes. He focused as closely as he could at the glass tower at the top of the boat. He could just barely make out the figure of the captain behind the wheel. His heart leapt as he watched the captain point in his direction, he looked like he was saying something to another person in the cabin. He watched as the other man disappear from sight.
Erik was elated about the possibility of rescue. He set forth to bring some supplies up to the roof as well as a large tin pot to make a signal fire in case they’re not here by nightfall. Then he sat anxiously with his hands bouncing in h is lap waiting for the
Westin Hotel, 26th floor, Pittsburgh Pennsylvania
Saturday, August 17th, 9:15 AM
Margaret and Jackie walked into the executive lounge, a beautifully decorated room with large leather office chars and a 12-foot redwood desk. This room had been unofficially selected as their “base of operations” mainly because it was the only room on all the guest floors that everyone could sit comfortably. The only other areas are on the third floor, and despite a lot of assurances, no one felt comfortable there, maybe because they were too close to the undead, they could hear their incessant moaning through the walls. The executive lounge at least offered two different ways to retreat if necessary.
Herb and John were seated at the corner of the table whispering between themselves, John looked up, saw Margaret walking in and they both stopped talking.
“Don’t feel the need to be secretive on my account boys.”
“It’s not like that Margaret, we just don’t know how Mark wants to handle it yet.” Herb said.
“Handle what?” She asked walking into the room.
“Um, I, uh, you should, um.” John studded
“Out with it!” Margaret insisted. She absolutely hated to be treated as fragile just because she was a woman. In her experience men were almost always the bigger babies.
“All right, all right.” Herb replied putting his hands up in surrender. “Steve killed himself last night. Slit his wrists in the bathtub classic horror movie style.” Herb whispered.
“Oh my god, no fucking way!” Margaret exclaimed loudly.
“Truth.” Herb said getting to his feet. “Well, the only real thing that was still up for debate is if you guys are going to be okay if we chuck him off the roof along with the others. We all kind of thought he was a dick, so some poetic justice there.” Margaret looked concerned, and both men were worried that this crossed some sort of moral barrier with her.
“Doesn’t bother me any, what the hell else are we going to do with the body, can’t exactly go outside to bury it.” Margaret said plainly.
“It just seems wrong doesn’t it, unchristian like and such.” John said wiping the hair from his face.
“If you have another idea John, we can certainly discuss it, but like Margaret said, what else are we going to do?” Said Herb. “I’ve been thinking about it for a few minutes here, and I can’t think of any other way to dispose of the body safely.”
“Well, I guess if that it’s the only way.” John reluctantly agreed. He pushed back from the table and got up from his chair. “Mark is down the hall waiting for us.” John said getting to his feet. Margaret and Herb rose and walked out of the room with him making a right-hand turn outside the sliding glass doors.
At the end of the hallway in room 2606 Mark at the small table in the room next to the window. The panoramic view of the city was beautiful with the sun rising up. Orange morning light glinting off the neighboring buildings. All seemed quiet and peaceful up here as the morning fog flows down the river like its own current of smoke. He could see across the river to Heinz Field, and PNC Park. Sitting back in the chair was peaceful and relaxing. If he were to sit forward and look down the streets of Pittsburgh it has a different effect as each, and every street is packed with the undead.
Mark was staring out the window lost in his own thoughts which were currently thinking about the 4th of July picnic they had last month. The had gone out to a lake and gone camping. They had watched fireworks that reflected off the lake, so it looked like there were twice as many.
He didn’t see as Steve sat up off the ground behind him. The sheet coving him falling to the ground. He didn’t see Steve’s eyes that were glazed over and crazed turning to face him. He didn’t notice when Steve stood up and turned towards him. Mark heard what sounded at first like a dog growling in the distance. Mark’s head shoots to the right and sees Steve standing over him. Mark glances to his left, the pipe wrench is sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, about three feet away from him. He makes a split-second decision and pushes himself off the chair as quickly as he can. Steve lunges just as Mark’s hand contacts the wrench. A screeching moan escapes from Steve’s mouth, Mark quickly grabs hold of the wrench, and jumps to his right narrowly avoiding Steve as he lunges headlong for him, teeth bared in an evil snarl, he smashes into the wall and nightstand. It doesn’t even seem to stun him, Steve rebounds immediately on his feet and moving across the room.
Mark moves as quickly as he can towards the door clawing over the bed and scrambling towards the door. He pulls it open and throws himself through slamming the door behind him. A half second later the door frame is rattled as Steve slams into the door behind him. He hears a noise to his right and his eyes shoot that direction. Three of his co-workers are all stopped in their tracks looking at him with matching confused looks on their faces. Mark is perspiring and out of breath, it takes him a moment to get the words to come out of his mouth.
“Steve... Turned.” Mark said trying to catch his breath. The door shakes in its frame behind him.
“Was he bit?” Herb asked.
“No. I don’t think so. Not that I saw anyway.” Mark said.
“Never said anything to me”
“Me neither” Stated the girls. Mark props himself up against the wall and rests his head in his hands.
“Jesus, he almost got me, it never even occurred to me that he would fucking turn.” Mark tried to shake his hands as if he could shake off the adrenaline surging through him causing his hands to shake.
“Well, John, I know you want the honors.” Herb said.
“To bash Steve’s stupid fucking head in? Hell yea, I would love those honors.” John grabbed the pipe wrench from the floor next to Mark. “You might want to scoot down a bit.” John said as he grabbed hold of the door. Mark did as he was told getting to his feet, he began wandering down the hallway, still stunned and replaying what had just happened inside the room. He could he
ar a commotion going on behind him for a moment, then all was quiet. Herb joined him down the hall.
“You okay?” Herb asked putting his hand on his shoulder.
“Yea, just scared me.” Mark said.
“Close one huh?”
“I swear I felt his teeth graze my leg. I felt him grabbing for me as he flew through the air. It was really too close.”
“He had to have been bit, or scratched or something right?”
“I don’t know, I guess we should inspect the body.”
“Probably not a bad idea.”
Back in the room they all gathered around Steve who John had been pulled away from the door after dispatching him. A long red streak on the carpet leads from the door to the center of the room. They began working together pulling off his clothes, they started with his shirt. Mark and Jackie held him upright while the others pulled his shirt free. It was all working fine until a piece of brain and skull fell off the back of Steve’s head and plopped down on Margaret’s arm. She screamed and pulled her arm away quickly startling the others and causing Steve to fall back against the floor with a sickening wet thud.
“We good?” Herb asked, his wide eyes pointed at Margaret.
“Yea, yea, fine. Just grossed me out. Sorry.” She was still wiping the spot that the bit of skull landed on.
“Oh, I get it.” John said with a smile. “I probably would have screamed like a girl too had the situation been reversed.” Margret smiled back reluctantly. She was still disturbed and disgusted by the entire scene. They picked the body back up and were able to successfully remove his grey t-shirt.
“There! There!” Margaret exclaimed pointing at the back of his left elbow. There was a scratch along the back of his elbow, it was puffy, red and inflamed.
“That’s got to be it. That is definitely a fresh wound, and it is infected.” Herb said getting to his feet and stretching his back. “So, did any of you note if Steve had any problems clearing the floors, did he even clear any of the rooms?”
“Yea, one. 2631, and the fucker had a hold of his left arm. So that’s when it happened?”
“Had to be.” Exclaimed Mark. “
“Man, Steve really was a dick.”
“What do you mean?” Asked Margaret.
“I mean he endangered all our lives, we knew from what Mark told us about what he saw on the roof that being bit definitely causes you to turn. If he was bit and didn’t say anything, we all could have been killed.” Herb said.
“You’re right.” Jackie said appearing at the door.
“Where have you been?” Herb asked. “You missed all the fun.”
“Looks like it. Jesus is that Steve?”
“Sure is. He killed himself last night but turned this morning. Almost got Mark.”
“I’ve got to stop sleeping in.” Jackie smiled.
“Well, let’s take him up to the roof. I can’t wait to chuck the bastard off.” Said Herb as he pulled the sheets of the bed.
“I can’t go back out on that roof.” Margaret exclaimed
“Have you even looked outside recently?” Asked John
“No, after the rooftop, honestly I was trying to ignore it. Like if I didn’t look outside it would be like this isn’t really happening.”
“Well, I think it’s time.” Mark motioned to the window. One by one they rose and walked to the windows. No one spoke, but there were a few gasps. Nearly as far as you could see were people seemingly walking this way, the bridge was covered, they were walking in and out of the river, and the street below seemed a crowded festival.
“If you have an escape plan, I’d love to hear it.” Herb mumbled, no one responded.
“Does it seem like they’re all coming here?” Joanna seemed near tears, her voice came out shaky.
“It seems like they are drawn together or something.” Mark said.
“What? Why?” Margaret asked.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. They all moan, constantly. What if it’s some form of communication. What if there’s a moan for ‘hey, there’s food over here.’”
“Do you really think it’s possible?” Asked Margaret.
“What else could explain it? The streets around this hotel are completely packed, it’s like standing room only down there. And there are more coming, by the thousands by the looks of it. Why else would they come from all over to stand around at this hotel?”
“So how are we going to get out of this hotel, you said yourself we only had a month to six weeks of rations.”
“Honestly, I don’t see one.” Mark said taking a seat on the bed. “I’ve run through a half dozen possible scenarios. All come with too many risks.”
“Such as?” Asked Herb.
“Such as, we could possibly drive through them if we can get into the garage, and if we can find a vehicle with enough torque to drive through a forest of zombies, and if we can get that vehicle started, and then where do we go once, we get out of here? How many miles away from the city do we have to get to be safe?” Mark emphasized most of the ifs.
“Wow, you really have thought this all through, haven’t you?”
“John there was a point that I was weighing the possibility of getting to a power line, which probably won’t be active for much longer, and scaling to another building to look for supplies. The truth is we have less than I thought. A lot of the food is spoiling fast, and there just isn’t enough dry goods to last long term. We don’t have six weeks.” He paused, he could feel every eye in the room focused intently on him. “We have maybe three, and that’s if we’re very careful with what we have left.”
“And then what happens?” Asked Margaret.
“We either move, or we starve.” Replied Mark.
“But we can’t move, the streets are packed down there, and unless there’s a fucking tank in the garage, we’re not making it through that.” Interjected Herb.
“I know.” Mark said.
“So, what are our options?” Margaret was sounding very concerned now as the enormity of the situation came down on her. “What about access to the sewers?”
“Nah, holes’ not big enough for a man to fit through. No way out through the basement, even if we could make it there.” Herb retorted.
“We can scout the garage, see if it’s even an option.” John added.
“I know, but I don’t like it.” Mark sighed. “But what other options do we have right now?”
“.” Added Herb
Somewhere in the mountains of Tennessee
Saturday, August 17th, 11:38 AM EST
Deep in the forest hills of Tennessee a green pickup with numerous red spots across the hood and fender rounds the corner toward powering over a fallen tree through what could only vaguely be called a road. The road was so overgrown that small trees scraped on the underside of the truck. Dennis’ father had passed away about three years ago. Dennis had come up to the cabin the summer after but hadn’t returned since. The old truck was struggling to make it up the mountain, they were all praying it would hold up all the way to the cabin. The engine compartment is giving off steam, and Dennis had already poured all the water they had into the radiator.
Dennis felt his prayers were answered when he could finally see the aging log cabin at the end of the road. It sits alone in a clearing, the porch overrun by weeds, and several roof tiles are hanging askew. There is one area where weeds can be seen growing out of the roof. It looks like a building that had suffered years of neglect. As the truck pulls up in front of the cabin a plume of steam and smoke bellows from the front grill. A family of squirrels who had made a home of the front porch began cackling and running up nearby trees. The three occupants exit quickly. Dennis steps out of the drivers’ side holding a shotgun at hip level. He swings the barrel from left to right scanning the surroundings. April leads out the passenger side door, she holds a small grey revolver. She’s followed closely by her son Douglass who has his rifle at the ready.
They move quickly to the c
abin door, Dennis continuously scanning. As they move inside April and Douglas moves to the corner watching carefully as Dennis moves through the living room. He turns the corner into the kitchen, then reverses and turns to the right and up the stairs. After a moment his voice can be heard from up the stairs.
“CLEAR!” Dennis yells. April and Douglas relax a bit and move to the front door. “I’m going to get the gear from the truck, honey, keep watch.” Dennis hands his wife the shotgun and moves slowly out the door, putting his right hand over his Desert Eagle revolver that sits in a worn leather holster hanging from his belt. He pushes through the rusted screen door, and steps out onto the porch. The forest is a live with activity, bugs, birds, and squirrels can be seen in every direction. He didn’t know why, but he saw that as a good sign. He walks over to the truck and pulls two large green bags from the back. He walks backwards to the steps continuing to scan the area as he moves. He drops the bags at the door and returns to the truck. He pulls down the tailgate and slides out a large cooler. He strides back inside and continues past his family without a word. They both walk out and grab one of the bags off the porch. As they turn back to the front door Dennis is opening the door to the cellar.
The Z Strain Page 13